


Cold Nightmares

by Kitashi



Series: Through Eyes of Courts and Fate [10]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Nightmares, Rated for safety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-04
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-07-29 06:39:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7673920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitashi/pseuds/Kitashi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>End of Chapter 38-Beginning of Chapter 39 of ACOMAF from Rhys’s POV of his nightmare.</p>
<p>Some nightmares never leave you alone... And sometimes, there is a light despite them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold Nightmares

**Author's Note:**

> Hey look, another Rhys fic!
> 
> I don't have a problem or anything. Nope, not me. Lol
> 
> Anyways, this was originally part of a larger fic (which I'm still working on), but there was this lovely prompt event on Tumblr this week called Feysand Week; today's prompt was "Nightmares", and so I hurried to finish this part in hopes to participate :)
> 
> Also, I’m sorry in advance. I never feel the need to put warnings on my fics, but this one includes implied rape, death, and mental torment. In case this really bothers anyone, I just wanted to give fair warning, and I figured it’s better to rate it higher for safety than too low. I promise it isn’t all dark… Just about half of it. If that hasn’t scared you off, then I hope you like it!
> 
> SPOILERS AHEAD! YE HAVE BEEN WARNED.
> 
> Enjoy! :D

“Please,” I begged. I rarely begged Amarantha for anything. I’d already shredded my soul beyond repair, so there was little that could cause me any sort of regret or anguish.

This was one of those moments though.

I looked into the eyes of the children, who looked utterly terrified. Some were crying, huddled together as best they could despite their bonds. I felt like I was going to throw up.

“Stop resisting, Rhysand. You know you _will_ do it in the end.” I could feel her in my head, controlling me through the powers she had stolen from me. I knew that if she wanted us to, she could make us slit our own throats with a smile.

Right now, I’d have preferred that.

“ _Now_ , Rhysand,” she commanded. I had stalled for too long. I took one unwilling step forward, towards the dais where the Winter Court children stood, all of their minds in my - in Amarantha's - grip. I resisted as much as I could. Every step was slow going, but inevitable. One child, no more than nine, looked me straight in the eye - he wasn’t going to go meekly. He held the hand of a young girl who was on her knees sobbing.

They were innocent.

Kallias had tried to rebel against Amarantha, with High Lord Helion Spell-Cleaver of the Day Court and the new High Lord of Summer, Tarquin. I knew her torments for those two would happen eventually, but Kallias… Amarantha seemed to have a particular interest in making him suffer.

I looked into the icy blue eyes of the boy, as I felt Amarantha take hold of my power. As my power ripped through him, breaking his mind. As the light left his eyes, his body crumpling to the ground.

Gone.

The girl holding his hand let out a cry as he fell. It was cut short, as the same thing happened to her. As it happened to each child after them. I looked into each of their eyes, committing them to memory, before she made me shatter their minds. Shades of blue, brown, black, and grey.

Twenty-four.

Twenty-four younglings. The Winter Court’s entire future.

Gone.

I wanted to throw up.

“Rhysand.” I looked to her and saw the command in her eyes to follow her, as she stood from her throne and walked towards her bedroom. As if using me to murder innocent children wasn't enough torment, she was now going to make me fulfill my duties as her whore in the same night, without even a moment to process it. My legs felt like lead as I followed her, and I felt cold all over, like some of the ice of the Winter Court had settled in my veins. I could feel the bile rising in my throat at the thought that someone could be so callous, so cruel. But then I knew I should expect no less from her.

The blood was on my hands as much as hers. In the end, _I_ was the one who had committed the act. I stepped into her room.

In the end, it was my burden to bear.

~~

I retreated inside my own mind as much as I could when Amarantha requested my… services. It was the only way I could still function, still believe I would live to see the end of this, of her. But I had to be a somewhat active participant, if only to keep my court safe. Enough to not draw attention, but not to my breaking point. I felt like I got closer every day though.

“Rhysand,” she breathed, crawling on top of me. Dominating me. I felt sick, knowing what she was going to do to me. It was her favorite way to remind me that she owned me, to remind me how powerless I was to stop her. But then she did something she'd never done before; she touched my mental shield. The one place she had never been able to reach, never been able to defile. In all these years, she had never exhibited any daemati magic. Until now.

Suddenly, my mental shield, the ebony adamant wall that served as my strongest defense, cracked.

I panicked. With a strength I hadn't possessed in years, I flipped us over, putting my hand to her throat, my talons out and closed around her jugular as tightly as I dared. I couldn’t do anything to her, and she knew it. But as long as she thought it was about foreplay, I could at least partially pretend to play out my own fantasy of ripping her throat out with one swipe of my talons. I could hear her voice calling me. “Rhys.”

Something was off about that though. She never called me Rhys. I felt my own darkness run against the scraps I had left, soothing; a lullaby.

Amarantha’s form flashed for a moment into another - golden-brown hair and blue-grey eyes - before shifting back into the red-gold hair and ebony eyes I abhorred. I stared at her.

“Feyre,” Amarantha said, the voice not hers. It was caring, kind. “I’m Feyre.” She grabbed my wrist, which still held her throat. “You were dreaming.” The same soothing darkness brushed up against my shields again, gentle and soft. I let out a sigh.

The darkness fell away, leaving me in my room, on my bed. We were in Velaris. Not Under the Mountain.

“Feyre,” I said hoarsely. As if I’d been screaming.

“Yes,” she said. I studied her face - and realized my taloned hand was at _her_ throat, pinning her underneath me. I quickly released her and sat back on my knees. Feyre… I had attacked her. In my nightmare, I had attacked her. I rubbed my hands over my face, trying to wake myself up. Trying to bring myself back from the nightmare that was all too real, a reminder of what I’d done to save my court.

“You were having a nightmare,” she said.

I lowered my hands, letting the talons and claws fade back into fingers and feet. I didn't want to know how close I’d come to shifting into the beast form I hated. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s why you’re staying here, not at the House. You don’t want the others seeing this.” She had moved herself into a sitting position in front of me, her eyes expectant. It wasn't a question.

“I normally keep it contained to my room. I’m sorry it woke you.” I couldn't believe I had let my control slip that far. For her to have felt it from down the hall…

Her hand clenched into a fist in her lap. “How often does it happen?”

I met her stormy grey eyes. “As often as you.”

She swallowed hard, realizing the implications. “What did you dream of tonight?”

I shook my head, looking toward the window - to where snow had dusted the nearby rooftops. That was almost worse. “There are memories from Under the Mountain, Feyre, that are best left unshared. Even with you.” If I could help it, this nightmare would be one I took to my grave. I was grateful she hadn't been able to see it.

She looked troubled, but reached over and put a hand on my elbow. I fought the urge to flinch, still on edge from the memories of my nightmares, my heart still pounding. “When you want to talk, let me know. I won't tell the others.”

She moved to slide off of my bed, but I grabbed her hand, keeping it against my arm. Her touch, her presence, was comforting; as soothing as the darkness that had tried to calm me. “Thank you.”

She studied my hand, my face. I knew I had to look like hell; the nightmares took as much out of me as hers did for her. But I didn’t have the energy to hide it behind my usual façade. Suddenly, she pushed herself up on her knees and kissed my cheek, her lips feather light, but still there.

It was over quicker than I could comprehend, but I stared at her wide eyed as she pulled away. She slid off of my bed, and I couldn't even bring myself to stop her; my mind focused on the feeling of where her lips had been on my cheek. She was almost out the door before she turned around to look at me.

But she didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to. I was suddenly conscious of what a wretch I probably looked like, and of the fact that I was very, very naked.

For a moment, I could see myself from her point of view, through her eyes as her mental shield was dropped; kneeling in the middle of my bed, my wings drooping across the white sheets, my head bowed, and the tattoos on my knees stark against my skin. A dark, fallen prince - the description that crossed her thoughts - and the inspiration of a painting that flashed through her mind and stayed there for a moment before fading away.

I sat there stunned long after she left, processing it all. I could see the moon high in the the wintry sky, nowhere near dawn. But I was afraid to close my eyes again, to fall back into that hell.

I must have fallen asleep again at some point, as the next thing I knew, bright sunlight was streaming into my room, right in my eyes. I squinted as I sat up, my limbs popping from the awkward position I’d fallen asleep in.

The night before came flooding back to me. But the fact Feyre came…

No one had ever done that for me. When you were as powerful as I was, people tended to think you were invincible, that nothing could harm you.

It was the mental scars though, the invisible ones, that I would suffer for eternity. I stretched and summoned a piece of paper and a pen from my desk with half a thought.

_Thank you - for last night_ , I wrote. It was an inadequate description for how I really felt, but it would do.

I sent the paper to her, and moved to get ready for the day.

I sat at my desk for a while, going through the stacks of paperwork I’d been avoiding, when suddenly a piece of paper appeared next to me.

_What do the tattooed stars and mountain on your knees mean?_

So she had seen them. I wondered with a smirk what else she had seen, if she'd _liked_ what she’d seen, but I didn't dare push my luck. Not while we were getting along so nicely.

_That I will bow before no one and nothing but my crown._ I folded the paper in half and sent a pen back with it this time, interested in what her response would be. Her answer came back almost immediately.

_So dramatic._

I laughed out loud, and I swore I felt smug amusement on the other end of our bond. It made me smile.

The nightmares would never go away; I would never let myself forget. But as long as I had Feyre…

As long as I had her, maybe, just maybe, I could find some light in my darkness.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you thought! All comments and suggestions are welcome, & if you have a POV/scene you would really like to see, please let me know! Thank you for reading!
> 
> Also, I have a writing Tumblr! If anyone is interested in talking & discussing ACOTAR, ACOMAF, or giving suggestions/asking questions, I can be found at _<http://kitashiwrites.tumblr.com>_.
> 
> Hope to see you there!


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